


Clean

by colazitron



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-19
Updated: 2009-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow Chris is the one dealing with drunk and or high Anton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

_Drugs, sex, rock and roll_  
I can't get enough drugs, sex, rock and roll  
Wash me, God I wanna get this off me  
If you wanna love me, scrub me  
Say a little prayer for me

“Chris, I stink!” Anton insisted. Chris was aware, but deemed it smarter not to agree. At least not out loud. Who knew how Anton would react to that? Chris didn’t even know what he was on this time. They stumbled over Chris’ door step, one of Anton’s arms slung around Chris’ shoulders, leaning onto him more heavily than the younger man probably realized.

“I need a shower.”Anton stated and tried to let go of Chris to move in the direction of his bathroom.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Chris mumbled and tightened the grip he had on Anton’s wrist and hip, pulling him against his side. Anton drew his eyebrows together slowly, like it took all his concentration to figure out why he wasn’t moving, what Chris had to do with it and why he was mad at Chris for it on top of scowling. It probably did.

“Let me go,” he demanded, the weird scowl turned pout about as authoritarian as a two-year-old.

“No. I’m not gonna have you drown in my shower.”

Anton had the audacity to giggle – _giggle!_ Like a freaking _girl!_ – and give Chris a paternal look. Why the hell did he put up with this again?

“You can’t drown in a shower, Chris,” Anton explained and tried to wheedle out of his arms again.

“You can do anything. And I’m not willing to find out whether that includes drowning in my shower.”

“But, Chri~is,” Anton whined and turned on the full puppy charm. It was both remarkable and disturbing how well he could still do that, considering he was twenty years old. _Eh, only children,_ Chris thought.

“I think I had sex with someone and I feel kinda filthy,” Anton elaborated like maybe that would get him allowance to use the shower. It got Chris to fix him with a stern gaze.

“Guy or girl? Did you use a condom..s?”

“Both, maybe? I dunno…” Anton mumbled, doing that complicated frowning thing again and seemingly tried to remember who had done whom and where he had featured in all that mess.

Chris heaved a deep sigh.

“Alright, let’s get you washed up,” he gave up and steered Anton up the stairs and into the guest bath room. In case Anton felt the sudden urge to throw up, Chris would rather he did it in the bath room he wouldn’t have to use tomorrow morning.

“You gonna wash me again?” Anton inquired, a slightly stoned and yet sultry grin on his face. Right, Chris remembered, he was just a little in love with this guy here.

“You gonna fall asleep in the bath tub again?” Chris shot back and Anton’s face darkened into the childish pout again. Had he been any more sober, he surely would have continued that banter, but with things the way they were…

Anton blinked against the sharp brightness of the bath room light. Chris fumbled with Anton’s belt buckle, while the younger man tried to help by pulling his t-shirt over his head. Chris was slightly impressed by the fact that Anton didn’t fall over in the process. Pulling down pants and boxers unceremoniously, Chris tried not to notice that whoever had fucked Anton had not used a condom.

“Huh,” Anton remarked, looking down at himself. He reached for Chris' arm to steady himself as he climbed into the bath tub. Once he was seated inside, Chris sat down on the floor next to the sink, watching as Anton tiredly rubbed at his skin, another frown pulling his eyebrows closer together.

He could still remember his amusement the first time he’d dealt with Anton in his post-partying state. Anton had invited him over to his apartment for brunch and when Chris had arrived the door had been just a little open and Anton lay on the floor of his foyer, snoring soundly. It seemed there had been an impromptu party the night before. Chris had given him kudos for managing to get back to his apartment, but had made him promise to call if it ever happened again and he felt like he wouldn’t make it home alone.

It _had_ happened again and as promised, Anton had called and Chris had come to pick him up. It was a little nostalgic, watching Anton stumble about, still completely euphoric due to whatever he had taken. Chris had felt like recording their conversations – if one could even call them that – that evening.

Then it had happened again. And again. And again. And again. By now Chris wasn’t amused anymore, he was worried. Sure, everyone partied at that age and Chris had done so himself in college. The thing was, where Chris had a certain base feeling of responsibility and reason, Anton was bat shit crazy at his base. Sure, he was responsible and reasonable and sensible and professional and serious and all that if needed, but when it came down to it, Anton was pure rock ‘n roll. It was probably what made him seem so charismatic at such a young age.

The sound of the water being turned off brought Chris back to the present and Anton’s most recent case of sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. Getting up from the floor, Chris fetched Anton a towel from the shelf and thought it best not to congratulate the younger man on not having thrown up yet in case he had simply forgotten to do so. He didn’t particularly want to be the one who had reminded him.

Scooping up Anton’s discarded clothes, he turned around to the younger man and watched him towel himself dry for a moment, before catching his eye.

“Come on, you’re sleeping in my room.” Just in case.

“You’re such a dad,” Anton grinned, but obediently – and seemingly a little sobered up – followed Chris down the hall to his bed room.

“Sit,” Chris commanded and motioned towards the bed, before turning around to dump Anton’s clothes into the washing machine along with his own. He was going to wash them tomorrow. Anton would sleep in anyway and even if not he could just borrow some of Chris’ stuff. Stepping back into the bed room, he found that Anton had curled up on the bed into a ball. Pulling an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers from the closet, he dropped them onto Anton’s body and turned to walk into the adjoining bath room.

“Change, go to sleep,” he said over his shoulder back at Anton. When he came back out, Anton had curled up under the covers and was fast asleep. Chris sighed, knowing he’d try to talk sense into Anton tomorrow morning only to earn a laugh and a “don’t worry so much” and end up in the exact same situation a week or two later.

And he did.

+++

“Christ, Anton, you really need to stop doing drugs,” he implored, toweling the curly hair dry while Anton clung to his shirt weakly, trying not to fall over or fall asleep standing up. He looked very much like a small child instead of the twenty-year-old he was.

“’m no’taking anything’at gets me addicted,” he mumbled defiantly.

“Not bodily, maybe. It’s up here I’m worried about,” Chris replied, tapping Anton’s head through the towel. Anton shrugged a little and raised his head to look at Chris. Dropping the towel messily onto the edge of the sink, Chris looked back at Anton.

“I know why you’re doing this, Chris,” Anton murmured. “Y’got a crush on me.”

Having a completely messed up, naked 20-year-old you happen to crush on look up at you with perfectly open and vulnerable eyes while saying that is not a situation you want to find yourself in. Not when you’re 29 and trying to be responsible.

“Yeah, I do,” Chris confirmed and gently pried Anton’s fingers from his shirt. “You really need to get some sleep, come on.”

Anton trailed behind him to the bedroom and let Chris pull a t-shirt over his head without any complaints.

“I don’ get i’,” he mumbled sleepily as he crawled under the covers, rolling onto the side and pulling the blanket up so far only the curly top of his head was visible anymore. “’m no’..”

Chris didn’t catch what Anton wasn’t. The younger man had fallen asleep.

It got worse the next time.

+++

“Y’know, Chris,” Anton grinned, still wide awake and sprawled atop the white sheets. “You can have me, if you want me.”

And the way Anton slid up a little, his hands above his head, his knees bent, a curious mixture between man, snake and cat, was so alluring, Chris didn’t dare to look too close.

“It’s not about sex for me,” he just replied and closed himself into the bath room, taking the second shower this evening and praying that Anton was asleep by the time he came back out.

He was. But as he had fallen asleep in the exact same position Chris had left him in on top of the covers, he had to shake him awake to get him to slip under the covers. Anton looked at him like he wanted him to say something. Not just anything, but something that Anton wanted to hear. Having no idea what that was, Chris mumbled “go to sleep” and turned off the light.

+++

“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” Chris cursed, more to himself than to the man whose hair he was currently trying to detangle. How the hell had he managed to get chewing gum stuck in there anyway?

– Then again, Chris really didn’t want to know where that had been before and how exactly it had gotten there seeing as he was currently touching it. Eurgh. He wasn’t germophobe or anything like that, but judging from the state Anton was in that gum could have ANYTHING attached to it. Suppressing a shudder, Chris focused on getting the sticky mess out of the hair and then washing the curls as clean as possible.

Turning off the water, he had not expected the younger man to completely disregard the towel he was holding up for him and instead wrap his wet arms around his neck and push his lips up against Chris’ shocked ones.

“It’s because you really like me,” Anton whispered and grabbed the towel. Chris only managed to stare.

“I know,” Anton smiled. “Get changed, go to sleep.”

+++

“Fuck, Anton, what the hell?!” Chris couldn’t help but exclaim as he opened the door and found the younger man leaning against the wall of his house, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. There was blood staining his white t-shirt. His lips were split and one of his eyes had a fashionable black stain around it. The jeans had probably been torn to begin with. When he lifted his left arm to wave to Chris, the scraped skin on his lower arm became visible.

“Whatever were you on that you thought getting in a fight was a smart idea?!” Chris scolded.

“I’m not _on_ anything,” Anton shot back, angrier than he had appeared a moment ago and pushing himself away from the wall. “Some assholes wouldn’t leave Kat alone so Dave and I taught ‘em that a lady means ‘no’ when she says so.”

“Oh.” Chris hoped to God he wasn’t actually blushing. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. At least, Chris felt like it was uncomfortable; Anton probably grew smugger with each passing second.

Chris sighed in resignation.

“Get inside.”

Anton grinned and passed by Chris who had stepped aside to allow him entrance. Chris watched Anton easily slip out of his shoes and saunter up the stairs. He wondered when Anton had been here sober the last time.

“Do I get to use your bathroom today?” Anton cheekily asked over his shoulder. Chris shook his head, amused.

“Sure, why not. Go ahead,” Chris allowed, waving his hand in a stand-off-ish gesture and locked the door back up before following what seemed to have become his charge up the stairs into the bath room. Anton had gotten out of the t-shirt and was currently touching bruised areas on his chest, testing for the amount of pain. Chris didn’t allow his gaze to linger and instead grabbed a wash cloth from the shelf and lightly steered Anton to sit at the edge of the tub. Wetting the cloth, he started delicately running it over his arm first.

“I hope you kicked their butts at least.”

Anton laughed a throaty laugh.

“Sure we did.”

Smiling in response, Chris rinsed the cloth before bringing it up to Anton’s face. He dabbed at the dry blood, trying to get it off the white skin beneath. It was a pretty slow process. But Anton kept quiet and Chris somehow felt Anton’s sobriety like a heavy weight on his mood. This wasn’t what he usually did. Usually he had to concentrate on keeping Anton upright and safe and together so much he didn’t have time to contemplate anything really. Now, though…

“Well, that’s as much as I can do for you right now. D’you need a disinfectant or anything?” Chris announced, rinsing the cloth clean of the remnants of blood.

“Nah, I’m good. The wounds are all closed anyway and they’re really not deep or anything. Luckily it’s a good look for me, wouldn’t you say?” he grinned, twirling around his own axis and showing off all the forming bruises and blemishes that were angry red and black blotches on his pale skin.

“Yeah, you should get JJ to have Chekov be beat up in the sequel.”

“Shirtless, of course.”

“Of course.”

Anton grinned and leaned against the door frame to the bed room. Chris wrung out the wash cloth and hung it next to his towels to dry, before passing by Anton on the way into the bedroom.

“You want the guest room?” Chris asked, digging out a t-shirt for Anton to wear for the night. Anton didn’t answer and when Chris turned around he found him standing directly behind himself.

“Jesus, Anton! Don’t do that.”

“You know why you’re special, Chris?” Anton asked, putting his hands lightly on Chris’ abdomen and sliding them up his chest, his eyes following their trail until his hands curled around the back of his neck and his eyes met Chris’ stunned gaze.

“You get me clean.”

In Anton’s usual cryptic way, he was telling him something, Chris knew. He just couldn’t, for the life of him figure out what it was. Following a hunch, he placed his free hand on one of Anton’s arms and slid it along it until he cradled Anton’s head. He took the smile as approval.

“You scrub the night off me so that you can look at me all sparkly and new. That’s why you can love me when everyone else just wants me.”

Ah, yes. Anton had always been more insightful than he was given credit for. It seemed Chris had made that mistake too, now. As if compensating, he drew Anton’s face closer and pressed their lips together in a tender kiss.

Letting go of the younger man, he pushed the t-shirt into his hands.

“Come to bed.”

**The End**


End file.
